Moments
by waterflower20
Summary: "He tried to suffocate you in your sleep, remember?" "Nonsense! He was just cuddling –" "On your face." A fluffy one shot with a dose of humour.


**Title: Moments**  
 **Author:** waterflower20  
 **Prompt: #72 - from the DramioneLove ~Love~ Fest -** _Crookshanks HATES Draco, Hermione's new next door neighbour. No matter what Draco does to try to win the half-Kneazle over, the familiar is quite aware of Draco's real intentions regarding his mistress (to win her heart and take her away from him), and goes out of his way to make things as miserable as possible for Draco. Nothing dark. Told from Hermione's POV as she watches the power struggle._  
 **Fic Word Count:** ~3000  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Warnings (if any):** Fluff, fluff, and more fluff, language  
 **Spoilers (if any):** None  
 **Summary: "** He tried to suffocate you in your sleep, remember?" "Nonsense! He was just cuddling –" "On your face."

 **Author's Notes:** I wasn't planning on participating in any fests/exchanges this year, but when I found out this was to be dramionelove's last fest, I couldn't stay away. For the last time, many thanks to **rzzmg** for hosting this fest! **PS:** There's an indirect reference from the TV show, Friends.

 **Disclaimer:** "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

 **First Meeting**

"I don't think your cat likes me."

"Nonsense!" the brunette witch dismissed, eyes firmly set on the report her guest had brought over as an excuse to visit her. "He's just shy around strangers."

"Granger..."

Hearing the slight shaking of his voice, Hermione finally looked up.

Malfoy was sitting in the three person sofa, and he looked nervous.

He had chosen her favourite armchair at first, but had wisely changed seats when he saw her eyes narrowing on him, and her wand hand twitching. There would be a ribbing later, she was sure of it, but damn it all, she was sick, and that armchair was plush, and comfy, and situated close to the fire so she would be warm, not to mention it was big enough for her to curl on it...

She could understand why he was suddenly nervous.

Crookshanks had taken the empty spot near Draco, his orange eyes fixed on the blond, monitoring his every move. If Draco so much as shifted position, Crooks would hiss, and waggle his tail, before slowly crawling closer to her guest.

Immediately realising her familiar's intentions, Hermione closed the file, and deposited it on the side table. "Don't make any sudden movements," she told him, keeping a smile on her face.

Bright, silver eyes flashed to hers. "What–?"

"No, don't!"

It was too late. Sensing his mistress' plan to rescue the interloper, Crooks lunged, claws out.

Draco squealed.

Hermione filed the memory away, for when she'd need leverage over him.

She tried to swat at the orange fur-ball. Crookshanks hissed, and managed to sink his claws in the wizard's thighs, the tips scratching his skin under his jeans.

"Holy Mother of God! Granger!"

"Stop thrashing, Malfoy!"

"Get that beast away from me!"

"No, don't hit him!"

"SON OF A BITCH!"

 **xxXxx**

 **Movie Night**

Hermione watched Draco with a smirk on her face.

Since his first meeting with her beloved pet, her co-worker-slash-neighbour, had decided to earn Crookshanks' approval. When she'd tried to dissuade him, listing numerous reasons on why that particular endeavour was unwise– _"He clawed through your jeans, Malfoy! Jeans!"–_ Draco had arched an eyebrow, and had haughtily said it was a matter of pride. Thus started his campaign to make Crookshanks like him.

Weeks later and the orange furball barely tolerated his presence in her apartment, and that was only because she had promised him he'd be allowed to sleep on her bed if he behaved when Draco was around.

"I don't see why it's so important that Crookshanks likes you," she said, carefully stepping over some cat toys he had brought over earlier. An hour of pointless purring, and pathetic attempts to engage a bored, and slightly amused Crookshanks later, Draco had admitted defeat for the evening, and helped her prepare the popcorn for their movie night.

"Told you, it's a pride thing," he murmured distractedly, as he took the drinks from her and made himself comfortable on her couch.

"Sure," she replied caustically. "You've spend hundred of Galleons on imported cat food– _hundreds of Galleons, Draco!_ _Merlin, he's just a cat!_ –and toys, and you even went to that seminar– _kind of pathetic to be honest_ –and you are no closer to making Crooks like you than you were three months ago."

"Not true." He thrust a finger at her, his silver eyes wide and mischievous. "He hasn't attacked me in three weeks!"

"Two. He tried to suffocate you in your sleep, remember?"

"Nonsense! He was just cuddling."

"On your face."

"Hey, you are the one who insisted that he was just being affectionate."

"With me! He's affectionate with me, Teddy, and Ginny! He hates everyone else! Harry and Ron have known him for years, and he still hisses at them!"

"They didn't try hard enough," he said, waggling a finger with a smile. "Crookshanks needs his time."

"Draco, he tried to claw your face."

"I'm making progress, Granger!" he insisted, unconsciously reaching out and grasping her hand.

The argumentative words died in her mouth when she felt his callused fingers wrap around her wrist. Tingles travelled from her wrist all over her body, and she had to forcibly stop herself from trembling. These feelings she was experiencing when Draco was near her and when he touched her were seriously starting to intervene with her thought process. She didn't know when she'd started noticing Draco, or when her feelings for him went from platonic to romantic, but she knew it was too late to do anything about it now.

Hermione was head over heels for the handsome Malfoy heir...

...and having him living so close to her was sheer torture. Especially when his parents would come over for dinner or lunch, and they'd bring along with them a single, beautiful, _blood-approved_ witch. At twenty nine, they'd said, Draco was well over the age a pureblood man would normally wed and produce an heir, but as he didn't seem to be planning on settling down any time soon, they'd taken his matchmaking into their own hands.

What hurt even more than their steering clear of her as a possible candidate for their son's hand was when Draco invited her over to play the role of barrier to his parent's scheming, claiming he had need of a friend to help him through the tedious dinners and the boring company. It turned out Hermione was a damned good tactical block for the Malfoy's matrimonial plans for their heir. She just wished he'd see that as a more permanent role for her, rather than an occasional one.

She couldn't exactly blame Draco for her distress, though, as he bloody well didn't know that she was in love with him.

Still, it hurt her to watch him safely flirt with those other witches across the table as she sat at his side, and having the elder Malfoys stare at her all the while, silently telling her how unwanted her presence was at such meetings.

"Hermione?"

Draco's soft voice shook her out of her melancholic reverie, and she blinked, focusing on his concerned face.

"What?"

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at her.

Hermione blushed, and waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, nothing, I just zoned out for a minute there."

"And you looked ready to cry," he said, leaning closer to her.

"Leave it, Draco."

His face hardened, and his eyes shuttered. His lips parted as if he would ignore her warning and brave ahead with the interrogation into her feelings, and...

Crookshanks jumped on him, his front paws coming to rest on Draco's chest, as he sat on his thighs. Draco felt the touch of sharp claws on his chest, but made no attempt to move, his grey eyes locked with the cat's orange ones.

Hermione was frozen in a half sitting position, ready to jump to her neighbour's rescue, but Crooks didn't seem to be doing anything.

Draco swallowed.

Crookshanks hissed.

Hermione bit her lip.

The part-Kneazle yawned, showing his impressive array of sharp, feline teeth, and then stared at Draco reproachfully.

No one said a word. No one so much as breathed.

Finally, Crooks dislodged his claws from the blond's jumper, and he hopped down onto the floor. Hermione and Draco both watched him trot to his basket, where he fussed for a while, before settling into a comfortable position.

"See?" Draco murmured, and Hermione turned surprised eyes on him. "Progress."

 **xxXxx**

 **Narcissa and Crookshanks**

"I can't believe this."

"Let it go, Draco."

"It's so unfair, Granger!"

"Merlin, stop being so childish!"

"Six months! Six bloody months I've been trying to win over that... that _beast!"_ He gesticulated wildly towards Crooks, almost knocking down the porcelain tea kettle nearby. "Six blasted months!"

"I know, I was there," Hermione said with a long suffering sigh.

"He chewed on my favourite Italian leather shoes! He took a shit on a number of reports for work I made the mistake of leaving on my desk. He's peed on my sheets, ransacked my wardrobe, shredded three silk shirts– _three!_ Every fecking day he lurks in my bathroom, waiting for me to come out of the shower so he can attack me, he's tried to suffocate me in my sleep–"

"I thought you said that was Crooks' way of showing affection."

Her teasing was answered with a venomous glare from the fuming blond.

She smirked, but wisely kept quiet.

"I've done everything, _everything_ to make him like me, and he still hisses at me whenever I come to your flat!"

"Dear–"

"And now this!" he cried, pointing at the purring feline, curled on his mother's lap.

The Malfoys had arrived two hours earlier, surprisingly without a witch accompanying them, and soon after they'd entered their son's flat, Draco had knocked on Hermione's door and had practically dragged her into his apartment. Crookshanks had prowled in exactly ten minutes later, seeking his mistress, having sneaked in through Draco's open balcony doors. He'd stumbled upon Lady Malfoy on her way out of the bathroom...

...and it was, apparently, love at first sight. It had taken exactly thirty seconds for Narcissa to earn the pet's undying affection.

When Draco saw his mother cuddling the cat, and heard Crooks' affectionate, pleased purrs, he'd choked on his wine. He'd been complaining ever since.

"You've been a naughty boy, haven't you, my precious?" Narcissa cooed at Crookshanks, scratching him behind his ears as he liked. "Draco thinks you don't like him, the silly boy!"

The cat mewled, rolling over to present Narcissa with his belly to pet.

"If it makes you feel any better," Hermione whispered to Draco, watching her pet interact with the Malfoy matriarch with arched eyebrows, "I think he likes her better than me."

"Shut up."

 **xxXxx**

 **Dates and Kissing**

What was wrong with her?

Roger Davies was the perfect guy for her: he was intelligent, he worked as a Curse Breaker in Gringotts, he was a Quidditch fan but knew better than to smother her with talk of the sport. He was charming, handsome, gentlemanly, and exactly her type. Yet, she felt nothing for him. Zilch, nada, no spark, no anything. He might as well have been Harry for all it did for her.

 _You know whose fault it is._

Draco bloody Malfoy.

The man had ruined her for other men.

When she'd finally decided to move on from her futile crush after the 'Narcissa winning her traitorous cat over' incident, and go out on a date with someone whose parents would be evenly mildly more accepting of her place in their son's life, Draco had decided to show up, unannounced in her living room, to shake up her resolve to forget him in that way.

His eyes had taken her in from her black, stiletto heels to her short, sexy, black dress clinging to all her curves, and wouldn't you know it: he'd finally noticed her. His breathing had stuttered when his eyes had lifted to the splash of blood-red colouring she'd applied to her lips and his cheeks had gone an interesting shade of pink.

Her body had tightened at the raw desire she'd seen reflected in his eyes. Draco had gone from nonchalant about her as a woman to ravenous to have her under him within seconds.

Apparently, he'd liked her outfit.

Predictably, just as he'd taken a step in her direction, her door bell had rung.

Eyes locked with his, she'd whispered to him the truth: her date had arrived to take her out.

Draco's jaw had tightened and his eyes had turned stormy grey with what appeared to be both disappointment and jealousy, but rather than do as she'd hoped and tell her to forget about the man ringing her up a second time, Draco had instead turned around and left her flat, shoving past Roger on his way out.

She couldn't stop wondering what could have happened if Roger had been delayed for just five more minutes.

All evening she'd been distracted by that thought, and the date had been less than stellar as a result. Roger had laughed at her apologies at the end of the night, quietly saying he'd known a thing or two about unrequited love in his time, and he'd thanked her for giving him a chance, kissed her cheek, and said his goodbyes at her door.

Despondent and feeling wretched that she'd wasted Roger's time and couldn't seem to get over Draco, Hermione had unlocked her door, prepared to simply throw off her clothes and hop into bed without a shower or a brushing, ready to call it a night. The scene that greeted her, however, made her freeze just inside her front door.

Draco was lying on her sofa, one hand thrown over his eyes as he slept soundly. Crookshanks was curled up on the sleeping man's chest, purring, as Draco's free hand cuddled him. There were no signs of blood or broken furniture, or anything to indicate a struggle.

Two bright, orange eyes opened as she stepped in, and stared at her reprovingly as she stood in the open doorway.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Hermione came in to her apartment the rest of the way, then closed and locked the door behind her. Only when that was done did she turn to look at Draco again.

What was he doing here?

Her heart beating a tattoo under her ribcage, she walked to the couch and knelt beside the sleeping blond. When she reached a hand out to touch him, Crooks hissed at her and his eyes narrowed.

"Mad at me, are you?"

She chuckled, tapping her pet on the nose with her index finger.

"Why? I thought you didn't like Draco."

Crookshanks rolled his eyes.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me!" she gently admonished him in a whisper. She had stopped feeling self-conscious when she talked to him years ago, as anyone with half a brain could see Crooks was not a normal cat. "He's done everything he could think of to make you like him, and you gave him the cold shoulder. What was he supposed to think?"

Her cat gave a frustrated purr.

The witch rolled her eyes at him this time.

"First Narcissa, now Draco," she murmured, affectionately flicking his nose. "Is Lucius next?"

"Merlin, I hope so. I've suffered enough," Draco whispered sleepily.

Hermione squeaked, and fall back on her arse.

He snickered, rising to a sitting position, carefully relocating the purring animal in his chest to his lap. "Charming move there."

"I see you're getting along," she said, nodding toward her relaxed familiar.

Draco's expression softened when he looked down at his nemesis. "Indeed. Turns out, we have something in common," he murmured, scratching behind the pet's ears.

Her curiosity picked, she tilted her head to the side questioningly.

"How was your date?" he asked instead, avoiding eye contact.

She bit her lip.

 _There's no point in lying. He'll find out soon enough._

"There won't be a second one."

His eyes finally rose to hers... and a myriad of emotions simmering between them.

"Why is that?"

Hermione swallowed, her hands curling into her shag living room rug.

 _In for a penny..._

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

A moment of silence followed that pronouncement.

"Who?" he asked.

She averted her eyes, irritated by his continued cluelessness. Merlin, if he didn't know by now... "None of your business, Draco," she said, rising to her feet.

"Granger–"

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, burying down the hurt. There would be time for tears later, when she was alone.

"I was waiting for you."

"I gathered. Why?"

"Merlin, you are daft, Granger!"

"Daft? How dare yo–"

"Stop," he said, rising.

Crookshanks snarled at the mistreatment, but when he caught sight of his emotional mistress, he kept quiet, watching her and Draco with intelligent orange eyes.

"Jesus, woman, even your cat knows how I feel about you!"

Hermione tensed, mouth dropping open, and eyes wide as Draco grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Wha–?"

"I'm in love with you, you idiot," he declared. "Why do you think I've put up with your cat's attempts to murder me? The only reason I want him to like him, is because I know you love that blasted cat!"

"But your parents..."

"I told them," he interrupted her quietly.

"What about Astoria, and Tracey, and Scarlett, and all the others?"

He shrugged.

"They never meant anything to me, Granger. I only put up with them because my mother asked me to be polite, and..."

"And?"

His cheeks were tinted pink again.

"I wanted to make you jealous. I needed to see if you felt anything for me."

He needed to know if she felt anything for him? For Circe's sake, she allowed herself to be dragged to his family matchmaking dinners to serve as his lovely arm ornament! "Why, you sneaky, son of a–"

He smirked. "Slytherin, love."

She threw her hands up. "I can't believe you!"

"Oh, like you're any better? What about Roger Davies? You're wearing red lipstick for him!"

"You egotistical prat! I wasn't trying to make you jealous by going out with Roger! I was trying to move on, you stupid pillock! I've been in love with you for months, and I was tired of being alone!"

"Well, why the hell didn't you say something?"

"Don't give me that! Why didn't _you_ say something!?"

"I'm a Malfoy!"

"So?"

"We don't talk about _feelings_ , Granger!"

"Oh, please, you bawled like a baby after watching _Titanic_ last week!"

"That's different. That was sad! Those two only had each other and he died for her!"

"It's a movie, Draco."

"Yeah, well... _Pride and Prejudice_ is just a book!"

"Just a– You take that back!"

"No!"

" _Meow?"_

 **xxXxx**

 **Morning After**

Hermione woke up with a smile, and rolled over expecting to find a warm body beside her.

Instead, she found an empty space.

She would have panicked, if not for the delicious aroma of coffee and bacon wafting in through the open bedroom door. She could also hear music playing and smiled. Draco loved listening to Muggle music while he cooked, she knew from all the years they'd been neighbours.

Getting up, she located his shirt on the floor and put it on, smelling his unique masculine scent again and sighing with contentment. They'd ditched their clothing rather fast after he'd finally snapped and kissed her last night. A shiver ran down her spine just remembering how wild they'd been to have at each other. Apparently, the unrequited love had come with some serious unresolved sexual tension, too.

Tip toeing, she walked to the kitchen...

...and nearly burst into giggles on the spot. She'd had to bite the inside of her cheek to contain them.

Draco had his back to her, but he was draped in the pink, frilly apron that Molly had made for her last Christmas. The strings in the back were tied in a bow... and it was all he was wearing. Crookshanks was sitting on the counter beside him and both had their gazes on whatever Draco was doing. He was conversing with the cat.

"Do you think she'll like it?... I hope you realise your days of sleeping on that bed are over, mate... Don't roll your eyes at me, pal... Fine, fine, I'll buy you a bed all your own, how' does that sound?...Ow, stop swatting at me, I know what I'm doing!"

Hermione couldn't stop the laughter this time.

Both human and feline startled and turned quickly, wearing identical expressions of surprise.

She laughed all the harder.

Draco crossed to her and looped his arms around her waist, pulling her in tight. Crookshanks jumped down from the counter and was rubbing his body between their legs, tangling them all up.

For the first time in months, Hermione felt content with her life.

"Good morning, love," Draco murmured, peppering kisses all over her face, and neck. He glanced down at their feet. "We've been waiting for you to get up, haven't we Crooks?"

Hermione smiled against his neck, inwardly thanking her fourteen-year-old self for buying Crookshanks all those years ago.


End file.
